Nothing less than the existence of God can explain this funny world. His edgy sense of humor is manifest in all things. This occasional blog helps you take comfort, of a sort, from that divine finger in your eye.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Ten years ago last month I mentioned a cute little place to stop and eat, somewhere along I-95 between Washington D.C. and Raliegh. (See Science Club Reunion.) It was just far enough out of D.C. for one to get hungry and it made a nice stop. It's a bit like Brigadoon. Sometimes when I make the return trip to Raleigh after a visit to the Nation's Capitol, there is is when I get peckish. Other rimes I stop at every exit looking for it and it's never there...

I have since figured out where it is and, since I know you are all worrying about it, I thought I would mention that the little town is Occoquan , Virginia and the place we ate is probably Madigan's Waterfront Seafood Restaurant.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

On the 28th of December, 1902, the Roman paper La Tribuna announced that Pope Leo XIII had issued a decree forbidding castrati from participating in the choir of the Sistine Chapel, or in any Catholic choir. This ended over three centuries of the chapel's use of castrati -- men who had been castrated as boys to preserve their higher pitched voices. At the height of their popularity castrati had been much sought after for sacred music, and for opera where parts were commonly written for the peculiarities of their voices. A few of them had become fabulously successful and wealthy. They were the androgynous "rock stars" of their time and were much feted, although they were also ridiculed for their stork-like proportions with large chests, sharp features, and over-long arms and legs.

During the 17th, 18th, and particularly the 19th centuries the Catholic church had a "complicated" on-and-off relationship with the morality of castrating boys so they could sing the soprano parts in sacred music. Until the end of the 18th century women were not allowed to sing in church and, while boys could sing the higher-pitched parts, their voices were weak and tended to break with puberty. The church officially forbade castration for musical purposes -- anyone caught performing the operation, or associating with those who did, would be ex-communicated -- but at the same time, church choirs actively sought out castrati with superior voices and contributed considerably to the popular demand for their abilities.

With castration for musical purposes officially banned by the church, and often against secular law as well, the popular demand for castrati, together with the wealth and fame heaped on the ones who achieved rock-star status, resulted in a surprising number of "accidental" castrations. Swans were a particular threat to young men's boy bits in some of the poorer parts of Italy, as were wild pigs. If a swan bit them off, the idea went, the boy might as well head off the music school and try to become rich and famous so he could send money home to his family so they wouldn't starve. It wasn't -- exactly -- that poor families "sold" their sons, but there wasn't a lot of opportunity for advancement in the lower strata of society and the opportunity was tempting...

17th and 18th century apologists for creating castrati argued that the sacrifice of virility was more than compensated by the contributions to sacred music, and that as long as the boys consented, then castration to preserve singing voices into adulthood was ethical. Others, of course, disagreed but, with the high demand for castrati for choirs and opera, a compromise was struck: boys were castrated in secret so that the clergy and directors of operas didn't have to know about it.

From a more modern point of view a number of other ethical problems present themselves. These are --

1) No Possibility of Informed Consent: The operation is irreversible and, since it must be performed before puberty, the boy is by definition a child and not able to give mature, informed consent.
2) Unreasonable Expectations: While the occasional, wildly-successful castrato was pampered, feted, and very much in the public eye, his less-fortunate fellows -- the eight out of ten whose singing careers failed after castration -- were never mentioned and few boys contemplating the "career" had a realistic expectation of his odds for success, and neither did their families.
3) Pressure: The extreme poverty from which most of the candidates were drawn exerted considerable pressure on them to help their families financially.
4) Assumption of the Blessing of Clergy: On the one hand most people probably knew that the church forbade castration for musical purposes, but on the other hand the soprano parts in church choirs were generally sung by castrati so how serious could the objection really be? How big a problem could the castrati represent if the Pope had a dozen of them in his personal choir?
5) Sort of Pointless: While the castrato voice differs from both male and female singing voices, it is not that different from a female voice. Most parts scored for a castrato can be sung just as well by a woman soprano. The whole "no girls in the choir" thing comes from an over-literal reading of a throw-away line by St. Paul in Corinthians and, with an only slightly more-nuanced interpretation, the whole rationale for having castrated men around to sing goes away.

And some more recent history...

In February of this year the Charlotte City Council passed legislation by a 7 to 4 vote that added new legal protections for gay, lesbian and transgender people, including a controversial section that would allow transgender residents to use either a men’s or women’s bathroom, depending on the gender with which they identify. The Charlotte Observer, in a report generally favorable to the City Council's actions, nonetheless admitted that it was "a decision that will likely provoke a battle with the General Assembly, which could nullify the city’s historic vote."

The Charlotte ordinance was to have taken effect April 1st and as anticipated, in the last few weeks of March, the North Carolina General Assembly formulated and passed House Bill 2 which laid out a statewide anti-discrimination policy and invalidated the Charlotte ordinance. In particular, HB-2 establishes policies for bathroom facilities operated by state and local government agencies, including schools. The policy establishes biological sex -- as listed on a birth certificate -- as the criterion for which facility an individual should use. This sounds more restrictive than it is. Most states will issue a new or amended birth certificate after sex-reassignment surgery.

Then on to my point...

A few weeks ago a photo started showing up in my Facebook newsfeed. It showed a pretty young boy with long light-brown hair. He was wearing lipstick and eye makeup and if you clicked through to his story it was about his "transitioning" to become a trans-girl, having just started estrogen shots at the age of fourteen. The reason my "Progressive" Facebook friends were sharing it was because of their opposition to North Carolina HB-2 which, among other things, would require the young person shown to use the boy's restroom at school because he is biologically male. They are sure that it would be a slam-dunk on this issue since those of us who support HB-2 would surely see that this innocent young boy/girl/person-of-intermediate-gender would probably get beat up in the boy's room. He might have his tender young breasts groped, or she might be kicked in her testicles.

And it was actually something of a slam-dunk for me... only the other way 'round. It reminded me how much I support HB-2. More precisely, it reminded me how much I think the Charlotte ordinance was a bad idea. It's because of that poor young boy in lipstick with his picture all over the Internet. I understand that gender dysphoria is painful and that he is terribly, terribly confused. But he is still a child, giving him estrogen will have permanent effects, and he isn't old enough to give informed consent for something like that. I suppose the idea for his transition is that he would show up in high school passing for a girl. Would that have worked? Maybe. He makes a convincing girl, quite a pretty one in fact. But that is shot to hell, isn't it? His face is all over the internet. He's not going to sneak into the girls room for a discrete, seated pee if he shows up at the bathroom door with a TV news crew, a flying wedge of butch, lesbian bodyguards, a legal team, a mariachi band and a pink piñata filled with complementary cosmetics. He's been ratted out by the fashionable moral preening of the champions of societal change.

One of the reasons that free-range, gender-of-the-day bathrooms/locker rooms/showers at schools seems like a bad idea to me comes from a recollection of my middle school days a long, long time ago. Some enterprising young men discovered that if one boy stood on the shoulders of another he would be just high enough to peer in the skylight window of the girls' P.E. shower room. I, of course, never did anything of the sort. I am above that sort of thing... A tower of virtue... and rather too heavy to be the man on top so what would be the point? But, anyway, teenage boys are pretty interested in the parts of teenage girls that they don't usually get to see. Interested enough to probably be pretty annoying. Note that I am not talking about transwomen here. They hadn't been invented yet. It's the straight boys I want to keep out of the girls facilities. If teenage boys will stack themselves up like Russian acrobats to sneak a peek they will lie about their feelings about their gender.

Reading the research about gender dysphoria and its treatments one is struck by how early in the process it all is. If gender transitioning were a drug that had to be approved by the FDA it would be early in the first stages of trials where the proposed drug is shown merely to be safe, and the next phases of the trials -- where it's effectiveness is shown -- would be years away. There is a general agreement in the field that children with gender dysphoria tend to get over it. A clear majority of girls, and an overwhelming majority of boys, who identify with the other gender as children will become adults who identify with their natal gender. Somewhere between 80 and 95 percent of pre-adolescent boys will become adults who identify as male, with a majority of them being homosexual but, nevertheless, reasonably happy with their bodies. Girls tend to persist somewhat more often with gender dysphoria but even then something like three out of four will grow up to identify as female. Adolescents, on the other hand, are said to seldom get over gender dysphoria and will probably require treatment. The question of how young, gender-dysphoric boys come to be male-identifying gay men without passing through adolescence is never clearly explained.

There is almost no data on outcomes of treatment where gender-transitioned individuals are followed to see how they get on, and what data has been collected is of low reliability. I did find one study that showed that teens receiving hormones seemed less likely to commit suicide than their untreated counterparts but the study was statistically underpowered (not enough participants) and there was no way to show that the benefit didn't arise simply from having their problems taken seriously -- no way to know if saline injections and a really good pimple cream wouldn't have had the same benefit.

Furthermore, there are a few studies that appear to show that long term problems frequently persist for those who transition. Recent studies that followed transsexuals in Sweden and Denmark found significantly higher rates of psychiatric problems, suicide, and attempted suicide among them than in the overall population. Other recent studies found high rates of "non-suicide self-injury" in similar populations in Belgium and the UK. There is no way of knowing, with this sort of study, how they might have done had they not transitioned and relied, instead, on more conventional therapies, but it seems safe to say that while transition may not have caused their problems, neither did it cure them.

If you do a keyword search for "transgendered child" on any social media site you will find that gender transitioning is a panacea -- apparently a solution for any and all problems with development or family life. You will see photos of happy children and well-integrated families. Families with transgendered children are as squeaky clean the Brady Bunch TV show without the slightly edgy vibe one got from Marcia. There are advertisements for how-to books on raising your transgendered child. The purveyors of fashionable opinion in the real media have bought into it, too. Big Time. So have celebrities and business leaders. Gender challenged young people are the next big social issue -- the next battle for the forces of "progress", flushed with their victory in the Gay Marriage battle. What gets ignored in the excitement is that we really don't know if (or when) the benfits of gender transition outweigh the harms (and there are harms). In a recent interview with Camille Paglia (a radical feminist critical of the left's obsession with gender identity) she put it this way:

I really pity young people today in this environment because the pressures are enormous. It’s one thing to feel, ‘I’m not quite comfortable in the gender I was assigned at birth,’ but the pressures are to change, change, change, and to telegraph it to the world. People are pushed into making choices about surgical interventions and taking hormones, which is dangerous, and they will have all kinds of medical problems in the long run…

I think there are authentic transgender people who had a genetic issue from the start, but they are a tiny, tiny minority of the population, and medical science is still developing to help these people. But now it’s become a fashion statement, or a mask [for other problems]. People are being induced to think that all their unhappiness -- in family life, in school, in relation to society – is to do with this gender issue. Well, maybe it isn’t. Maybe there are other issues a person needs to deal with.

So let's revisit my list of qualms about castrating boys for church choirs and see how they line up for gender transition for young people --

1) No Possibility of Informed Consent: The treatments have permanent effects and, since they are often started before- (or instead of-) puberty in order to minimize undesired secondary sex characteristics, the individuals are often children and not able to give mature, informed consent.
2) Unreasonable Expectations: The majority of information available about gender transition is, quite frankly, propaganda. Some of the propaganda comes from religious organizations and exaggerates the negatives, but most of the discussion arises from those who champion the "rights" of transgendered individuals and are eager to correct any "misconceptions" about the subject -- ignoring the paucity of data behind the "science" and defending the narrative with constant ad-hominem attacks on anyone who questions its correctness.
3) Pressure: The current generation values a "hit count" on YouTube more than money (although properly-managed ad streams can make them the same thing.) Adolescents are famously suggestible and seeing another child become a celebrity by coming out as transgendered is pretty compelling for a conflicted young person with self-worth issues.
4) Assumption of the Blessing of Clergy: The authority of the church is much diminished these days. Our highest moral authority is Oprah. As long as transgendered kids are given instant celebrity on television, those who follow fashionable opinion will assume gender transition is the next big thing.
5) Sort of Pointless: Medical science hasn't gotten to the point where hormones and surgery can make a fully functional man out of a young woman, nor can it make a functional woman out of a young man. What you tend to get is a "non-working replica" rather like the flintlock "pistols" that are made to hang on the wall as part of a colonial-era decor. Trans-men and -women are usually infertile from the hormones, even if they avoid surgery, and their sex lives (and their limited remaining ability to reproduce) tend to involve left-over body parts from their rejected genders.

While I am not a Catholic or a scholar of the papacy and I can't pretend to speak authoritatively for Pope Leo XIII, I am pretty sure he wasn't afraid of castrati, didn't hate them, or think that they would corrupt the church choirs they sang in. He simply realized that by contributing to the popularity of their voices the church was complicit in a social phenomenon that caused thousands of boys to be harmed.

Fashionable opinion today has decided to celebrate transgender individuals as, I dunno, "Heroes of the Revolution" I guess. Since I think the benefits of "transition" are overstated in the popular imagination and the risks generally ignored, I believe that all the positive attention given to gender transition stories is part of a social phenomenon that can cause large numbers of troubled young people to be harmed.

Genuine transgendered individuals represent a tiny, tiny part of the population -- a small fraction of one percent -- and I don't think that establishing policies that are sensible for the ninety-nine point something percent is wildly unfair. We should deal kindly with exceptional cases as they arise* but not forget that they are exceptions to the general rule. By changing the rules to accommodate the tiny minority we would be exaggerating the importance, necessity and desirability of the transition meme. In the case of schools we would be saying, in effect, "We've changed all the rules so you can dress up your troubled son in lipstick and a dress, and send him off to school... Because... you know... that's such a good idea."

*HB-2 allows for surgically sex-reassigned individuals to use re-issued or revised birth certificates. This seems excessively cumbersome since those documents are often controlled by other states whose policies vary. I would prefer some form of transgendered identification that could be issued and controlled by NC.

Monday, March 07, 2016

I generally run out and see Pixar films during the first week of their run, often opening night. But somehow the Missus and I had trouble working up a lot of enthusiasm for "The Good Dinosaur." We had seen the trailer several times and both had three-part reactions, notably:

1) The background and environmental rendering was gorgeous.
2) Against those amazing backgrounds the cartoonish character animation was jarring.
3) And... meh.

When I noticed that it was playing at our second-run theater where we could see it on the cheap I decided to give it a chance. I had seen several reviews that suggested that Pixar was so excited about their new technologies for environmental rendering that they overlooked the small detail of giving the film more than a pro-forma story. Now that I have seen the film I have to say that those critics were a bit hard on the film, which isn't to quite say they were wrong. The film has most of a decent story... but not all of one. It's frustrating because it was so fixable. But they didn't see it. And they didn't fix it. It's kind of lame but it didn't have to be.

The main problem -- and I've complained about this with Disney before (see my review of Brave) -- is that they are so into their characters that they can't let them change. At the end of the film the scriptwriters put the characters back where they found them with no scuffs or nicks from their adventure. In The Good Dinosaur our protagonist makes the hero's journey, sees marvels, performs brave acts, earns the respect of the ghost of his dad, rushes home to reach his family before its too late... and they are fine... they're glad to see him, mind you, but his earlier dramatic promise to his mother -- "I won't let you starve!" -- foreshadows nothing, she's fine, the family farm is fine, his brother and sister are fine, there's really no reason for him to have rushed home.

And then there is the name of the film -- The Good Dinosaur -- what's with that? We see lots of dinosaurs and most of them seem OK. There are a few bad ones, I guess -- the pterodactyls are hard to like and and the archaeopteryxes ditto (apparently feathered and/or flying dinosaurs are evil) -- but most of the other dinosaurs we see are good guys too. Our hero is nice enough but he never quite seems to earn his definite article. He is A Good Dinosaur, to be sure, but it seems like he'd have to change the world, just a bit, to earn the title of THE Good Dinosaur.

So, bottom line, The Good Dinosaur is worth seeing so you can goggle at the environmental rendering. Their computer animated vegetation is astounding and what they have done with animating water has to be seen to be believed. Just don't expect the story to go anywhere.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

One hundred years ago today astronomer Percival Lowell was looking for a ninth planet in the Solar system. Its existence and its rough location had been predicted by other astronomers based on the perturbations of the orbits of other bodies (notably Neptune) but nobody had ever seen it. Lowell was convinced it was there and he was looking for it.

Today, one hundred years later, astronomer Michael E Brown is also looking for a ninth planet. Today's predicted planet was once again suggested by the peculiar orbits of other bodies (notably the distant dwarf planet Sedna with a highly elliptical orbit). To date, nobody has seen the new ninth planet but Brown is convinced it's there and he's looking for it.

In the intervening century a lot of stuff has happened but a surprising amount of it canceled itself out leaving us back where we started. Lovell didn't live to see the discovery of his ninth planet (which he called "Planet X"). It was discovered by astronomer Clyde Tombaugh fourteen years later and named "Pluto." For seventy six years "Pluto" was the ninth planet in the Solar system, but with the dawn of the 21st Century astronomers started discovering lots of new objects as large or larger than Pluto and, rather than posting the current number of planets like a stock ticker that could be constantly updated, scientists decided to set the bar higher, insisting that planets had to be much larger than Pluto, and demoting Pluto, in 2006, to "Dwarf Planet" status (along with all of his newly-found companions.) Once again there were eight planets. And scientists were pretty sure that would be it.

Turns out they were probably wrong.

The evidence for the 21st Century Planet X comes from the very eccentric orbits of some of the other, smaller objects way out in the Kuiper belt (sort of like an asteroid belt only out past Pluto). It turns out that these objects have really similar orbits -- all 30 degrees off from the ecliptic and all on the same side of the sun. The theory is that they have similar orbits because they have all had close encounters with the same massive object that spends most of its time on the other side of the sun, 30 degrees off the ecliptic in the other direction. This article has a helpful picture.

The order of the planets that I learned as a teenager uses one of the few G-rated mnemonic sentences I can easily remember. "Mother very easily made jelly sandwiches under no protest." for "Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto." Some years ago (while Pluto was still a planet) it crossed inside the orbit of Neptune and, technically, became planet eight with Neptune in the number nine spot. But the new Planet X is well outside the orbit of Neptune (as much as 31 times as far from the sun) so as long as they give it a "P" name I won't need any re-education.

Perhaps they could name it after Priapus -- the Greek god of Nature, Gardens and Beekeeping. That'd work.

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Christmas 2015

Aurelie Jane McPherson. I knew her middle name was Jane. Of course I knew. She is my granddaughter after all. I didn’t actually need to page back through three months of Amber’s Facebook timeline looking for that first post with the full name. “Jane”. Of course it is Jane. I knew that. I just panicked when I saw the cursor blinking after “Aurelie”.

Aurelie is a French name. I’ve been to several web sites to try to learn the French pronunciation. It is Oh-RAY-lee but you have to say it really fast… and sort of gargle it… like you have a bit of cheese stuck in your throat and you are trying not to cough while saying the name. I can almost say it the French way if you give me a minute to prepare but I’m not sure that will be fast enough in real-life grandfather situations. In the time it takes me to wrap my mouth around Oh-RAY-lee I can say “You there, small person, don’t put that vile thing in your mouth!!” which you’d think would take longer. Fortunately, I can say the anglicized version that sounds like “Aura Lee” as in the popular song that was a hit during the Civil War.

As the blackbird in the spring 'neath the willow tree
sat and piped I heard him sing praising Aura Lee.
Aura Lee! Aura Lee! Maid of golden hair
sunshine came along with thee and swallows in the air.(Tune is same as Elvis’ “Love Me Tender”)

Aurelie was born at 10:21 pm. on July 24th, weighing in at 8 lbs 14 oz and is already quite accomplished for a three month old. She holds her head up like a champ. She looks at faces. She laughs when her mom pretends to sneeze. She gains weight to the satisfaction of her pediatrician (a talent that comes from my side of the family.)
Aurelie’s brother and sister, Liam and Eva McPherson will be four by the time you read this. They are shown here with their newborn sister, for scale. I don’t have any song lyrics that go with their names. As far as I know there are no “Liam” songs and the best I’ve got for “Eva” is “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” which doesn’t seem that Christmassy.
It is boastful for grandparents to go on and on about how smart their grandkids are so I will spare you*. But I did see a scientific study that suggested that women with adipose bottoms have smarter babies, presumably because the infants are slightly better nourished in utero. And based on that study people who spend some time with my grandchildren might imagine that Amber’s posterior would be huge... but, really, that’s not the case.
Chris and Reid have sold their house in Cary and, if all goes to plan they will have bought another house by the time this card is delivered. The new house they are buying will take ten minutes, each way, off of Christopher’s daily commute without increasing Reid’s. That’s the “official”, sensible reason they chose it. The actual reason is that the new house is not part of a Home Owner’s Association. They had rented out the previous house for several years and Chris grew tired of getting cranky-grams from the HOA whenever his tenants fell behind on their grass mowing. The new house sits on nine rural acres, of which Chris can mow as much or as little as he likes. Perhaps he should go to a local salvage yard and buy a rusty old junker to put up on blocks in his yard… just because he can.

Irene and I are fine and we continue to do the usual stuff. Please refer to previous years’ Christmas cards for details. We did get a new dog – Gypsy Rose (shown here with yours truly) - to take the place of Ms. Cello who passed away. Jaxon, our other dog continues to do well. I suspect he would be getting old and slow and fat if it weren’t for Gypsy who chases him around the back yard ten hours a day.

Our Cockatiel, Sugar, (shown on Irene’s shoulder) is quite an elderly bird being more than 20 years old. She seldom comes out of her cage but apparently she wanted to be part of this year’s Christmas letter and she came out to pose for a photo this morning when Irene was filling her seed cup. My father, Allen, continues to do well. He recently celebrated his 89th birthday and is in reasonable health and good spirits.

*What? Don’t all the Christmas cards you get have footnotes? Anyway, Irene insists that I mention how well Liam reads for a three year old. Since that conflicts with my promise not to boast I have hidden her grandmotherly boasting in a footnote which nobody will read and for which I can blame her.

Friday, December 19, 2014

As I write this 2014 installment of the NC Haslup Clan Christmas Newsletter, I have already missed the first (Partridge in a Pear Tree) through the fourth (Calling Birds) days of Christmas. But there are 8 more so hope remains. I do need to hurry, though, because of the plumbing issue.

As it turns out, of the houses owned by Irene and me, and by our grown, married children, all three have had significant plumbing problems in the past year or so. Chris and Reid had to replace all the water pipes in their house, Amber and Lee had to tear up their bathroom floor to get at a pipe, and we replaced a burst pipe near our upstairs water heater.

Because of these painful (and expensive) events there are some days of the song that may have unpleasant connotations: "Twelve Plumbers Plumbing, Eleven Pipers Piping, Ten Loos a-Leaking, Seven Drains a-Swimming, Six Bills for Paying, Five Wax Bowl Rings, Four Floating T-" ... well you get the idea. Days 1,2,3,8 and 9 -- Partridge in a Pear Tree, Turtle Doves, French Hens, Maids a-Milking, and Ladies Dancing, respectively -- are OK because I haven't thought up anything funny that rhymes. So I have to get cracking to try to hit days 8 and 9 for those few people who will be getting a paper Christmas card this year..

With one notable exception*, we are all reasonably healthy and seem to be thriving. Chris still has the same job as a graphic designer/art director for a communication firm, Amber is continuing her residency in Emergency Medicine. Amber's Lee and Reid are both teaching (college chemistry and high school physics, respectively). Lee and Irene are largely unchanged from last year so I will refer you to last years holiday letter for details..

Most of this year's newsletter is being presented as an online slide show because, um, I sorta ran out of time to lay out the newsletter. The link (immediately below) is followed here by an exhibit guide for the photos. You might want to skim the guide before you click the link to decide whether you need to see the photos just now.

1. PineCones in Fairbanks Alaska

Taken in June, near the Morris Thompson Visitors and Cultural Center along the walking/bicycle path beside the Chena River. Christmasy-looking, I think.

2. (Big) Lee

Photo of your obedient servant. I am sitting in my comfy chair and kitchen clutter in background is nicely blurred. Chris probably took this one while trying out my new lens.

3. Irene on the BlueRidge Parkway

Nice shot of Irene taken at an overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway, mid October, just before sunset.

4. BBQ w/ Amber, Lee, the twins, Calvin and Pat

Here we are, the whole family... except that our friends Calvin (second from the right) and Pat (leftmost) are standing in for Chris and Reid. (Didn't get a family portrait this year.)

5. James and Ashleigh, newlyweds.

Dancing at the reception after their beach wedding. It was pretty dark in the tent and most of my photos were blurs. I like this one though.

6. Random Newlyweds Who Asked Me to Take Their Photo

No idea who this couple are. They had just been married on the beach and were looking to have their picture taken at Sunset at Fort Fisher. The lighting is the high-beams of our Subaru Outback. The is possibly my favorite wedding photo I have ever taken. I emailed this and a few similar images to the man on the right who had officiated at the ceremony.

7. Christmas Dinner Last Year at Cousin Bill's House.

Very nice affair -- good company and fabulous food. Irene was there, too, acting as photographer for this shot.

8. Foggy bit on the BlueRidge Parkway.

Richland Balsam overlook. Bit of a different driving experience on a foggy day, offering bottomless gray vistas yawning inches from the passenger side window.

9. Chris and Reid on the Appalachian Trail (Note White Blaze)

Reids first time on the AT. Chris appears to be doing a movie impression -- the hat, the intense gaze, the stubble -- Kenneth Barnaugh? No, that's not quite it. I can almost... Don't tell me... Um... Ok, tell me.

10. Chris and Reid's New Dog, Miss Scarlet

Nice dog with soulful golden eyes. May be a Rhodesian Ridgeback mix. At least that's what Reid thinks.

11. Granddaughter, Eva

Earlier this year, I think. They grow so fast at this age. Love the light here... And, of course, fond of the girl, too.

12. Grands Liam and Eva

Being adorable. Obviously plotting mischief.

13. Amber's Lee and her Eva, too.

Irene took this photo of Lee and Eva posing with the lion beside the steps of some-building-or-other, somewhere, probably in New Jersey. Princeton, maybe. Irene took this one.

14. Eva with some Over-sized Art.

She is three now. I think the Munch-man is overreacting to the Munchkin. Although she was still in the "terrible twos" at the time.

15. Lee in The Dr Zeuss Themed Part of Universal Studios, Orlando.

Kinda like that part of the park although there might be more to actually do there if I had the grandkids in tow.

16. Amber, Liam and Eva

Irene took this shot and I was able to pull Amber and Eva out of the deep shadow in post-processing without burning out Liam who was in the sun. But that is boring, I know. Sorry. I wasn't along on that trip and don't have much to say about the photos.

17. Dandilion Taken with Lee's New Lens

One of several photos taken in the backyard to try out my new Sigma 18-250mm lens before our trip to Alaska.

18. Obligatory New-Zoom-Lens Moon Photo

You may wonder: what is Christmasy about a photo of the moon? Well, you see the lens -- a Sigma 18-250 zoom -- was an early Christmas present I bought myself. ... or ... maybe it was a late Christmas present from last year. ... Yes, that is. It was last year's indulgence. Wonder what I will get for myself this year???

Maybe trouble...

19. Roseate Spoonbill Taken Near Mims Florida

Spoonbills are on my list of things that can't be explained by atheists. Without postulating an odd sense of humor behind its design it is impossible to explain how the spoonbill came to be so funny looking.

20. Portrait of Leopard Frog, Taken with New Lens in Backyard.

Yes, I know dear, there is NO reason for this photo to be here. You're quite right. But if I took it out now I'd have to renumber all the other photos.

21. BigLee and Irene in Dinali Park in Alaska

The interior of Alaska is a dangerous place in the summer. It is so beautiful -- and there ARE people who live there year round. It's tempting not to go home.

22. Photographing Snow Plow last February

This photo looks like it ought to be part of our Alaska collection but actually it was shot last winter across the street from our neighborhood. I wanted to get an action shot of the snowplow and I got more action than I had figured on. It was a bit like losing a snowball fight with Optimus Prime.

23. BigLee, Pattye, Frosty and Irene with Alaskan Pipeline

Fisheye lens selfie taken somewhat north of Fairbanks.

24. Irene Points to Our Location along Pipeline.

Another fisheye shot. I like it because it makes her look 17 feet tall.

25. Huskys Go For a Boat Ride near Fairbanks, Alaska

People in Alaska have a different meaning for the word husky than do those in the lower 48. In the lower 48 a husky is one of several breeds of dog some of which have blue eyes. In Alaska it is any sort of dog that loves to pull a sled.

26. Irene in a Riverside Park in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Taken along the river walk by the Chena river.

27. BigLee with Caribou Antler Arch in Fairbanks

The woman in blue (left) had come into Anchorage to visit her daughter (center) and to try to place some of her handicraft items in some of the local shops. She lives on St Lawrence Island -- a large island in the Bering Sea, much closer to Siberia than to the Alaskan mainland. Among her offerings was a pair of seal fur gloves that were lovely and she assured us that the seal the fur had come from was very tasty and tender.

29. Irene, Frosty and Pattye in Fairbanks

Our first two nights in Alaska were spent in the River's Edge Resort in Fairbanks. Between jet lag and the midnight sun (not to mention the 1:00 am sun and the 3:00 am sun) we kept kind of strange hours the first few days. Lovely place to wander down the path by the river at 4:00 am although you had to keep moving or the mosquitoes would fly off with you.

30. Irene Sitting in an Exhibit at U of Alaska Museum, Fairbanks.

Many Alaskans decorate their outhouses. This is an unusually ornate one. That blue foam pad is crucial for an inland-Alaska outhouse since it is an excellent insulator and your butt won't stick to it, even at 40 below.

First few seconds on board the Norwegian Sun sailing from Whittier, Alaska in messy weather.

32. Lee and Irene in Times Square

Having a great time despite cold rain. We stood in the Tckts same-day line and scored half-price tickets to a musical called "Side Show".

33. All Aboard the Norwegian Sun

This is our official boarding photo from our trip to Alaska this June. The weather was lousy (we had half drowned, half froze trying to reach the terminal) and Irene did not want her photo taken. I LOVE this photo. Makes me laugh every time I see it.

I will close with a sincere wish that the remaining more-than-half of Christmas will be a joyous time for you and yours and that the new year that will start with the arrival of those Maids a-Milking will be a safe and prosperous one.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Chris and I. looking for any excuse to get out in the snow, decided to walk down to our neighborhood Food Lion and buy some beer for the winter storm. When we got there, of course, they were closed but fortunately we had foreseen the problem and had a plan. We stood at their locked door and complained loudly that they were closed when we needed them. That was our plan. It went perfectly. After executing our plan (flawlessly) we decided to wander aimlessly around the shopping center (our new plan) and we discovered that the drug store was open and sold beer. Huzzah!

On the way back to the house we were passed by a number of snow plows. I really wanted a photo of myself with a snowplow in the background. But the first one passed before I could get out my camera...

... and so did the second...

... so I gave up on the self-portrait angle and snapped this shot ...

... and got a serious face full of snow as the plow went past .

It was a bit like losing a snowball fight with Optimus Prime.

It's been a long time since I have had an icicle growing on my hat. Marvelous.
I do like a bit of winter weather in my winter.